


Because When the Morning Comes

by Big_Boss



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, Japan, Low Fantasy, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Were-Creatures, Weretiger, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Boss/pseuds/Big_Boss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The feral creature seemed like someone who could kill a person without remorse. But despite all of the misleading features, Kuroko couldn’t help but feel that there was something much more gentle behind the beast's red eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dawn

Time moved as gently as the morning breeze when a young man; short in stature, hair seemingly a pastel abstraction of dawn, escaped unknowingly from his nightly reveries. Two seconds and a yawn after, his body struggled to sit up on the bed. The wooden ground was cold from the autumn air when his unprepared feet touched it.

It was early October and the leaves were begging to turn.

And so Kuroko finally got out of the bed, making his way towards the kitchen. Sounds from the radio replaced the silence with its constant static noises alongside indistinct voices. And it took a radio show for Kuroko to realize that the war was long over, and that he didn’t need to run away from anything, from death, from destruction, from the past. Kuroko Tetsuya could be written off as someone along the lines of profoundly sentimental and imperceptible. It could be possible to say he blended too well with his surroundings. He was rather faint, to the point where he rarely got noticed by people. A well-educated, twenty-five year old man working in a bank during the postwar year of 1951 could never ask for more.

His daily routine would consist of brushing his teeth by himself, making breakfast for himself, and eating it by himself. He couldn’t deny it was a little lonely, but he had lived alone ever since he moved away from the countryside. The capital was different. When he arrived in Tokyo a few years before, he could still smell the lingering stench of blood and death. It laid on a depressing amount of devastation he could vividly remembered how his hands shook and how his stomach churned because of fear. He had wanted to go back to his hometown he was dragged away from.

‘Dragged away’ seemed like a harsh phrase. But in reality it was worse. The strange occurrences and bad luck drove people into hauling Kuroko far from the mountainous province of Kanazawa. For others, it was a case of misfortune, but for Kuroko it was something entirely different.

Work that day was slow and laidback, causing Kuroko to worry when he wasn’t supposed to. It was always so hectic ever since the economy was trying to get back on its feet. The country was aiming for a miracle, something Kuroko was unconvinced of. For the rest of the morning, work was easy and it took a phone call to shatter his dreams of having a good day.

“Tetsuya-kun,” one of his female co-workers called him out during his coffee break. “Midorima-san is on the line.”

Kuroko’s went wide for a moment. How nostalgic for Midorima to call. He had lost contact with most of his friends in Kanazawa because of the war. He wondered if Midorima was calling somewhere from Tokyo. He looked like someone who’d get a decent job in the city. He grabbed the black receiver and was the first one to speak.

“It’s nice of you to call, Midorima-kun,” he said, slightly smiling. He hadn't heard from him in years.

“Kuroko,” he began. It sounded so ominous. The morning was already ominous to begin with that Kuroko could say he was prepared for anything. “Your house in Kanazawa is going to be demolished.”

Just when Kuroko thought the war was over, he was unable to hear anything, and it was deafening, like a grenade blew up right next to his ear. He wasn’t prepared at all. Concerned hellos from the other line barely brought him to reality. His heart stopped.

Kuroko struggled to clear the lump in his throat. “Did Akashi-kun tell you about this?”

“He said you’d probably want to see it one last time.”

The call ended the moment Kuroko’s throat dried up completely, unable to let out a single word, and the man from the other line had probably realized that Kuroko was in a state of shock, and took the initiative to formally bid his goodbyes first without waiting for Kuroko to hang up. The line was cut off. His knees trembled and his sky-blue eyes hadn’t blinked for one whole minute, sweating hands holding the phone as if he was still listening.

“Tetsuya-kun? Are you alright?”

He was far from alright, but replied to the sweet girl that he was. When she got back to work and Kuroko was alone, he couldn’t help but break down in silence. He loved that house. He loved the memories that mingled with it. He loved " _him"_.

“Chie-san,” Kuroko said as he walked along his workplace. The lady who had called him earlier waited. “Can you tell our boss I’ll be using my three-day leave?”

Considering years of neglect, the house remained the same after ten years; girdled with highly valuable wood so as to withstand the city’s eclectic weather. It was raining when Kuroko arrived in Kanazawa—as expected of his hometown.

His heart couldn’t stop racing on his way to the rainy city. When his friends in Tokyo found out that he was visiting his hometown, they were quick to offer him a ride, knowing how emotionally attached Kuroko was to the place. The only one he knew who owned a private car was an old friend of his, Aomine Daiki. His skin was distinctly darker compared to Kuroko’s ridiculously pale tone and was a rather laidback guy. Aomine was one of the few people he was comfortable with, and he was thankful it was him who traveled back to Kanazawa with him.

“Don’t tell me you forgot to bring the papers,” Aomine said with his usual lazy tone, occasionally eyeing between the road and Kuroko sitting beside him, desperately shuffling through the contents of his oversized bag. But Kuroko shook his head. He brought the papers needed for the demolition. He wouldn’t forget that. “What are you looking for?”

“Something.”

Aomine narrowed his eyes at him. “Like I said, what exactly?”

“…Venison,” Kuroko replied quietly with hesitation, and Aomine could see why. He didn’t ask him anymore questions. When he found the pack of raw venison he had specifically bought before leaving Tokyo, Kuroko was finally able to relax in his seat. He was still hopeful even after all these years. He looked outside the window and saw a sign that they were in Toyama, which was just a city away from their destination.

The air was especially chilly. It was an hour or two before twilight, the sun still sitting below the horizon, yet to be woken up. It was hard to see the road, so Aomine was highly cautious. Aside from the lack of light, the rain poured down heavily, the car windows almost obscured by the mist and rainfall. Kuroko shivered within the cold.

The young man who was painted with a lighter shade of blue sneered at his own reflection in the window. He could see the slight bags under his eyes and the taller man beside him. Glancing at the other, Kuroko shifted in his seat and smiled weakly. “I never thought you’d want to come back here.”

“I don’t,” Aomine denied, turning the wheel when there was a curve up ahead. "There's nothing to do in this place." Kuroko didn’t know how to reply and remained silent. Even though Aomine also moved to the city, it was hard for them to find time to hang out now that work was in the way. It was hard to strike up a conversation after not talking to each other for some time. But they talked anyway. The silences were comfortable, but Kuroko felt like it was rude to keep silent. So he tried to keep a conversation going; asking about Momoi, or even Kise, and some other friends from Kanazawa, inquiring about his health, and commenting on his awful driving skills even.

“I think Momoi-san would’ve wanted to come with us,” Kuroko remarked. The face Aomine showed when he mentioned Momoi amused him. She was a sweet girl, but one could say she was a bit troublesome. Kuroko didn’t look at her as someone inconvenient like Aomine, but he could tell why the guy had such a sour look on his face.

He groaned, “Let her be. She can’t skip work anyway.”

“How unfortunate.”

Kuroko shifted on his seat, stretching his legs across the floorboard. It looked like the sun was awake, slowly getting off from its bed of clouds. The countryside was very different from the city. His hometown was nestled between the sea and the alps while everything looked old and traditional. They were almost a few kilometers away from Kanazawa when the one who was driving asked, “You’re alright with the house being smashed to bits? I mean, you really cared about that place.”

Kuroko stiffened, but still offered a faint smile. He watched the view outside the window, staring at his own reflection alongside the grayed out landscape of the countryside. His soft-spoken voice mingled beautifully with the rain. “Akashi-kun called right after I learned about it. I was angry at first, but when he explained to me about the details, I thought it was fine.”

“But it’s not fine.”

Kuroko’s hands balled into fists. It wasn’t fine, yes, but he didn’t want Aomine to worry. He tried to speak in a clear-cut tone. “…It can’t be helped. I can’t pay the inheritance taxes anymore. I could just sell the land afterwards.” He tried to hide the sadness in his voice. “I can get over it.”

Aomine knew him well. And he knew Kuroko was someone who found it difficult to move on. “It’s just an excuse to persuade you into consenting, you know? Now that the war is over, people are all over the place and demolishing houses for their redevelopment crap.”

A sigh escaped from the fragile line of his lips. “Even so, it’s not like I can do anything to stop it.”

“You’re giving up that easily? It’s so unlike you.” His words made Kuroko turn his head to look at Aomine, who was struggling to keep his eyes on the road. With a strained voice, he added, “Back then, everyone gave up… when you were the only one who didn’t.”

“Back then, huh?”

Ten years ago, he was happier, more approachable. He used to smile more. Because he wasn't alone. Even though the entire world was consumed by war, it didn't exhaust him as much as it exhausted him now. For Kuroko, the world was cruel, yet promising at the same time. It was what made it so wonderful. But now his source of light and security was gone, and the world was just simply cruel, and he struggled to live in it. He struggled through the loneliness and the pain that cultivated inside of him never left. But Kuroko liked to believe painful memories shaped up a person. And he thought it was strange how a person could mean nothing to him, but in a matter of days, they were the whole world to him.

"I don't suppose you've forgotten about that guy." Aomine decided to continue on with the topic instead of avoiding it. "Even bringing deer meat and all."

The smaller man answered with a hand on his chest and a harrowing exhale. The dawn had passed and the air was cooler, but that wasn't what made him shiver. Kuroko remembered things most people forgot—or rather, most people wanted to forget. The time he thought he had forgotten still lingered brilliantly inside his heart; the time when his world had meaning, when the world was bright, when the world gave him a reason to stay alive and live each day like no other. Because ten years ago, he lived in a world where Kagami was by his side.

 


	2. Nightfall

Kuroko Tetsuya wasn’t a very expressive person, and he was quite aware of it. His eyes normally flashed disinterest, and his deadpan gaze could somehow be deceptive. But he smiled a lot. He would smile when he talked to townsfolk, when the old lady living nearby gave him mandarin oranges from her garden, and when he visited the town to forage for some books. There hadn’t been a lot who had seen his rare smiles, but he did, in fact, smile, despite the rumors.

People were perceptive of his presence. He was known throughout town because he was interestingly uninteresting. His presence was weak, but they knew he existed. It didn’t make much sense to him either, but some of his associates told him that. Having to live by himself in the early, fragile age of sixteen, it was not at all surprising to be the subject of gossip. The house he lived on was just as well-known as he was—a former traditional inn his grandmother brought up into maturity. It was impossible to keep the business going after she died, so Kuroko just abandoned the idea of maintaining the inn and just simply lived in it.

The light-haired boy, carrying with him an empty basket of what was supposed to be persimmons, paced listlessly within the wide dwellings of his home. The sun was merciful enough to shine brightly through the fragile papers of his windows that he had no need to open them completely. Kuroko was used to the spacious surroundings, but it didn’t help to make him feel any less insignificant. He was either too small or the house was too large.

He had just reached his front porch when he heard his name being shouted, a shrill voice echoing amongst the chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees.

“Tetsu-kun!”

The voice was coming closer now. It didn’t take long before a pink head appeared from the end of the stone steps leading to his property. Through yellow trees, Kuroko saw the smiling face of Momoi Satsuki, bright and lovely as always. She had wide-spaced eyes and a torso that overshadowed her pink hair for certain reasons. With a thick, brown kimono cloaking her, she seemed almost like a blooming cherry tree amongst the dying autumn foliage around her.

“Good morning, Momoi-san,” the boy greeted first out of courtesy. A small smile curtly braced his lips before noticing the girl had a basket of fruits with her.

“Here,” she said sweetly, stretching the basket towards Kuroko. “Mother and I want you to have these.”

Kuroko blinked slowly at the basket before saying a gentle, “Thank you.” Looking at it again, Kuroko could feel something odd. Momoi’s family had been thoughtfully providing him with their produce for years, so in some way the basket he carried were lighter than before.

From a sweet-faced expression, Momoi’s face churned with gloom and Kuroko suddenly felt bad. “Oh, sorry about this. It's little compared to what we usually give. Some of our young pomegranate and peach trees were cut down to make way for this huge tower, you know, for air raid sirens. It’s a little depressing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kuroko said with honest concern. Pomegranates were rare produce. He wished they could’ve cut down his abounding persimmon trees instead. Momoi lived in the more saturated part of town, where houses were pressed tightly to each other. It was a potential target for airstrikes “It seems the district army went to visit us again.”

“Yeah.” She shook her head. “But it’s fine, really! At least we’ll be the first one to know if there’s an attack or something.” Momoi always tried to look at the positive side of things. It was one of her redeeming factors. Kuroko liked that about her.

“It will be over soon,” Kuroko assured her, his fingers holding the weaved basket tightening. He had no idea exactly when the war will be over. It was hard to tell. They hadn’t felt the terrors of the war yet. But that made all the townspeople all the more terrified.

She nodded as a sign of amnesty and walked backwards, her hands clasped behind her. “Anyway, I have to go, Tetsu-kun. I’ll come by again with Dai-chan, okay?”

“I look forward to it.” Kuroko bowed to her and smiled back before the young woman skipped along the lush ground towards the descending stone stairs.  The strength of his buoyed shoulders vanished as it slumped with gloom.

Every single person in the universe was wary of their lives. The war felt like it was never-ending. And Kuroko often wondered, “When will it stop?” But as someone who was living in the disheartening year of 1941, Kuroko was quite unperturbed. While the townspeople worried and prepared for the worst, he didn’t do anything; rather, he chose not to. Maybe because there was nothing else to lose but his life and his grandmother’s property. But that was it.

The traditional inn he lived in was of a remarkable affair. It was a series of rectangles only two stories high, the outdoor paneling of which was made of Japanese cypress, broken by symmetrical rows of latticed paper screens and windows. It wasn’t something one would see in a post card, but there was no denying it was an edifice of grace and cultural beauty, built on grassland between mossy stones and foliage, squeezed in front of a mountainous forestry. It was a lonesome wooden home stretched out on elevated land, like a hill, that Kuroko had to climb up a flight of lopsided stone stairs as if there was a temple on the very end of it. It wasn’t that high, but it gave off that draining feeling.

Kuroko belittled how valuable his home was. Over the years, there had been stingy old men trying to trick poor little Kuroko into selling the house, taking advantage of the young boy’s innocence. It would’ve worked if Kuroko was a normal, naïve, sixteen-year-old. But he wasn’t. And these swindlers would usually leave his property either disappointed or angry. Only a few knew of his educational background, and these few people were almost just the same age as him.

Right after Momoi left, Kuroko went on to harvest persimmons from the surrounding trees. His land was abundant with produce, something which miraculously happened after his grandmother died. Superstitions were something of a naught to him, but Kuroko liked to believe the prolific fruitage was his grandmother’s doing. After almost emptying two or three trees using an old wooden ladder, Kuroko went ahead to the market to supply the vendors with his harvest. It was a good source of daily income, especially during the autumn months when persimmons were high in demand. He left the markets after he was done dealing with the vendors and buying meat and fish for dinner, he walked right in to a vintage bookstore not too far from the marketplace, overflowing with books written in primeval Japanese and Chinese.

Kuroko noticed the shopkeeper before the old man even noticed him.

"Good morning," he greeted to get his attention. The old man gasped in surprised. Was his presence that weak?

“You came at just the right time! I got some books you might be interested in. My son got them from Kyoto the other day,” the bookkeeper said to him, approaching him with his hunched back and a wrinkled, smiling face.

“Can I take a look?” Kuroko replied in his calm, polite voice. He smiled at the old book merchant. The store was old and dusty, but he loved it anyway. He didn’t hesitate taking a peek at the new stock of literature that was presented to him. He took notice of a certain book, with broken ivory clasps and obvious stitches on the side of the books. It had a soft covering made of weaved material, so Kuroko wondered what the clasp was for.

“That’s a rare copy of _The Kojiki_. It was made during the Meiji Restoration and written in classical Chinese, so it’s hard to read for most people.” He heard the man laugh, softly slapping his back. “But I’m sure Kuroko-kun can read it, yeah?”

He laughed raspily as Kuroko just listened in amusement. The old man didn’t seem to be lying. When Kuroko touched it, he could feel the long years it had gone through; worn out pages and uneven stitching rousing his hands. _The Kojiki_ mostly revolved around myths about gods and goddesses who seemed to take pleasure in killing each other for some reason. Kuroko knew this because he had already read it, and it should be a given that kids his age would know about the country's mythical origins. He turned a few fragile pages. It was indeed difficult to read, with Chinese and Japanese characters mixing in precociously from time to time. So even though he already owned a more modern copy of the book, he bought it, still, drawn to its complexity.

Kuroko was a lover of literature and prose, something most teenagers his age ridicule. Somehow they began to neglect the arts and beauty of their own country. Slowly, but surely, he could feel the developments of the Western world pouring into the traditional canals of their culture. There were only a few who were bold enough to wear Western clothes in his side of town. It wasn’t exactly frowned upon, but at the end of the day, people would talk about it behind their backs. He didn’t mind the new trends; change was good. And it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

Back at home, Kuroko contentedly strode inside with a new book and ingredients for lunch and dinner. He slipped off his shoes before stepping on the wooden floors just as a bark resounded from the hallways.

“Nigou,” Kuroko called out quietly. He didn’t need to shout as the walls of his home amplified his voice adequately enough. “I’m home.”

The dog greeted him with a series of cheerful barks and a wagging tail, as if he didn’t come home for a week. It jumped and spun happily as Kuroko began to cook in the kitchen. It had a black and white coat, and was too small for a husky or malamute, so Kuroko assumed it was mixed in with a smaller dog breed when he found it cowering in the marketplace. Just like Kuroko’s sky blue eyes, his dog also had the same shade, and Momoi and the others would often point out the similarities. Hence, the dog’s name 'Nigou'; which was literally a 'Number Two'.

The day continued steadfastly with Kuroko doing nothing but his usual routine of reading, cleaning, and studying. Occasionally, he would pluck out the weeds from his grandmother’s prized garden, but it became too cold during the afternoon to actually do it. It had rained for a while until night came. Just as Momoi promised, she visited him together with Aomine, a childhood friend of hers, and one of Kuroko’s rare friends.

Kuroko made sure to prepare enough food for three people, but deemed it insufficient with Aomine around. He liked the company, but more often than not preferred to be alone. The table had dishes elegantly placed on it while the three of them casually sat on tatami floors as they happily talked about the most trivial matters.

“Tetsu, when did you learn to cook like this?” Aomine asked while he still had his mouth full. Kuroko took it as a compliment. He only learned to cook recently when he realized he couldn’t live with boiled eggs and noodles alone. He had bought some hefty amount of _gori_ fish from the market that morning, seasoned it with salt and fried it.

Momoi pouted at the deep-fried fish on her plate. “I wouldn’t be able to cook for Tetsu-kun if he keeps getting better at cooking!”

“Forget it, Satsuki. Do you plan on killing him?”

 “What do you mean by that, you dummy? Tetsu-kun likes my cooking!”

“Hey, you don’t actually think her meals are edible, right?”

“I like Momoi-san’s food,” Kuroko answered safely with a straight face. He saw the other man give him a look of displeasure while the young woman grinned in triumph. Of course, it was a lie. Not even Nigou could stomach the girl’s cooking. But Kuroko wasn’t as much of a jerk as Aomine was and smiled at Momoi instead.

Between the silly conversations and the smell of seasoned fish, they heard loud thunder trouncing from the distance. Nightfall had already fortified the skies and Kuroko thought it was a cue to finally send those two home. They had worried eyes when they were about to say goodbye. And it offended him slightly that they kept thinking he was still a kid who couldn’t take care of himself.

The rains came just as Kuroko finished cleaning up. The woodlands behind his home squalled just as boisterously as the storm. After closing all the windows, doors, and other such openings, he let himself relax for a bit. He didn’t expect heavy downpour that day. Autumn weather was quite unpredictable, he thought.

“Nigou,” Kuroko said, holding the dog’s bowl full of leftover meat and rice. Thunder was the only thing that answered him, so he called again, “Nigou…?”

But the dog didn’t appear. There were no cute little footsteps prodding the wooden floors, no high-pitched barks of some sort. Kuroko grew a little worried. He ran to the kitchen, bedroom, bath, and even the second floor which he often stayed at. He wasn’t at the entryway either. He called Nigou’s name again and again. But he was nowhere in sight.

Heart pounding, Kuroko rushed outside despite the freezing October weather. He felt his heart stop when he found Nigou’s broken collar on the muddy ground. And realized he must’ve wandered to the woods.

“No…” Kuroko whispered. How did Nigou got out of the house? Did he leave the back door open when he checked the garden? Did he slip through the front entrance when Momoi and Aomine left? He tried hard to remember but figured it was useless. Nigou was already gone. His sight was obscured by the darkness of the night and the storm. He went around his house and stopped at the entrance of the dark woods, the hairs in his body standing up at the very sight of it. He hesitated. It would be normal to be scared of such a place, especially when it was rumored to be packed with wild animals.

A bark then a flash of thunder. It was Nigou. Kuroko’s eyes widened and his breath hitched. It wasn’t the bark he was used to hearing. It sounded like a cry for help. The whimpering bark he heard from within the forest triggered Kuroko into charging with sheer resolve. The rain had soaked effortlessly through Kuroko’s light clothing and fragile skin. The forest wasn’t situated on plain ground. It could already be considered as a mountain. The mud-covered path led him along the ridge of high hillsides.

“Nigou!” He cried out. The turbid water rushed beneath his feet, his body swollen by the rain. There was no sound of his dog, the only thing ringing through his ears were heavy drops of the downpour. He cried out again, hoping Nigou would bark or whine or howl or _anything_. Along with the sogginess and gloom, worry and fear got his knees shaking and his hands trembling. Kuroko waded through the mud and the rain that laid thick upon the mountainous paths. The path wasn’t even there anymore, just the obscuring mist and angry winds.

“Ni—!”

Immediately in front of a petulant cleft on the ground, Kuroko’s foot slipped. From a mucky ridge, he fell almost six feet to the ground, landing on his side. The fall knocked every fragment of air from his lungs and he laid there struggling to breathe. The sound of the ground beneath him echoed inside his skull and Kuroko couldn’t feel anything but pain.

He heard a barking sound again. It was coming closer. He hoped it was Nigou, because all the strength to find him was gone in one swift accident. He kept his eyes closed and squinting. He must’ve hit his head because when he tried opening his eyes the world was spinning; the rain radially fell on him and the grime beneath him felt like it was sucking him in.

Amongst the rain, mud, and blood, Kuroko heard a growl, accompanying a dog’s continuous barking. Did Nigou found him? Kuroko stiffened. There was that growl again. Unlike the dog’s barking, which was from a distance away, the growl was so loud and close it seemed as if there was a wild animal next to him. The injured sixteen-year-old couldn’t help but freeze. Was it a bear? Should he stay still or run? Then he heard it again. It resonated too lowly for a wolf or dog, but wasn’t as hoarse as a bear’s. He could’ve sworn it was something like a mountain lion or tiger.

A shadow loomed over his already shadowy figure. He opened one eye, despite the blood that flowed across his eyelids. Surprised, he saw a human figure, tall and stalwart. Kuroko watched at the large figure from above him as it hovered over his broken body. It was growling. It was definitely not human. And it scared him. He was going to be ruthlessly eaten. He braced himself as blood and grime continued flowing down to his face before losing consciousness entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally able to write it! It's a Friday night and I had free time. This is usually different from what I write since I'm not into the fantasy genre that much. It's pretty good practice. Hopefully I could write Kagami somewhere next chapter. Thank you for reading~!


	3. Forenoon

 

The moment he opened his eyes, a sharp pain sparked between the joints and muscles of his body. Dirt and dried leaves settled into his blue nest of hair, his clothes still slightly damp from last night. When the chirping of robins and herons resonated through his ears, Kuroko jolted his body up. There was no doubt he was hurt, but when he realized he could move freely, he grasped the fact that his injuries weren’t that serious. The sun was probably up, based on the light shining through the cracks of shack's walls.

Wait.

Shack?

He finally took in his surroundings. He wasn’t at his home and instead, was in a small, cramped shed with a single room. He noticed soon after that he was, in reality, on a bed with a blanket of fur and patched fabrics of silk and cotton. It smelled absolutely awful that Kuroko felt a nosebleed coming.

The four corners of the shack were made of wood—old, mossy, and brittle. It seemed it had been abandoned for years. There was a table with an old radio transmitter, inoperable lanterns, and a bunch of papers on the verge of disintegrating with drawings on them. On the walls were sketches of animal bones and parts, sticking on the wood like glue. Small, empty cages laid deserted on the floor, along with various traps and snares used for hunting. It didn’t seem like someone lived there for a while and the bed was the only part of the room that wasn’t disgustingly shabby.

Kuroko let out a gasp when he heard something nudging under the bed, and was relieved to find his dog, tongue sticking out at him, mouth agape shaping up to be somewhat of a smile.

“Nigou!” Kuroko breathed out. The dog jumped onto the bed and licked his face. The worried boy checked Nigou for any injuries and soon found out he had none. He was covered in mud and dirt just as he was. Thank heavens. He was beyond relieved. In the end, he was the one who ended up with injuries. Remembering it, he impulsively touched the side of his head only to feel dry blood. His head was hurting, but there wasn’t any much of a damage. A rock must’ve hit him, but that was it. He couldn’t remember much. The last memory he could muster was a shadow of a large figure looming over him.

It was a person. But the ferocious huffs and growls the mysterious creature slurred made Kuroko doubt his vision. Maybe it was a bear. There were sightings of them in the woods, and bears could stand on two feet. It wasn’t impossible but it was very unlikely. For a quick second, Kuroko might have mistaken the shadow as Aomine. But even if it was him, it wouldn’t make sense to end up in a shack, and presumably in the middle of the forest.

Kuroko was snapped out of his thoughts when his dog barked at him. The exhausted boy shook his head and stood up, his bare feet touching the moldy floor. There were weeds and questionable plants growing between the cracks and holes of the wooden floor, and Kuroko tried not to step on them. He realized after walking a few steps that his legs and feet hurt, and that the headache he felt when he woke up remained.

The door almost crumbled when he opened it. The sun was completely up in the sky and Kuroko had to squint his eyes because of the sudden light. An October chill passed by and he shivered, rubbing his arms with his hands. Blue eyes widening, the forest that surrounded the abandoned shack was thick enough to be scary. Kuroko hadn’t been in that part of the forest before and he wondered how he could find his way back home. The forests of Kanazawa were dangerous and wide, and he feared he might get lost if he tried to venture through it. His feet touched the ground, dried leaves cracking as he stepped on them slowly, making his way through the dead trees and pathless terrain.

Then Nigou barked. Almost too happily, Kuroko thought. The dog ran ahead of him, and Kuroko got scared that he might ran off somewhere again. But Nigou stopped and looked at him, as if he was waiting for Kuroko.

“Nigou?” Kuroko muttered. Maybe he knew the way back home? He sighed when he sensed a flicker of hope. So he followed him and hoped his dog would lead him to his house.

After nervous trotting through the foreign woodlands and wondering whether he should really trust his dog, Kuroko finally found himself in familiar grounds. He knew the place. The path was there. It was covered in mud, but it was definitely there. When he figured he could find his way back, Kuroko immediately ran.

“Kurokocchi!”

He heard his name being called as soon as he emerged from the forest. There was only one person who would call him by that pet name. Kuroko could already see the side of his large house, but the first thing he saw was a young man—tall and fine-featured with amber eyes and hair. The golden figure ran to him and grabbed his shoulders, eyes brimming with tears.

“What happened to you?! Are you hurt—”

“Kise-kun,” Kuroko cut off calmly. He was calm mainly because he had no energy left. His eyes shot up to stare back at golden ones. “Calm down. I’m not badly hurt.”

“How could I calm down? Look at you!” The young fellow named Kise shouted in worry, observing Kuroko’s exposed limbs.

Kuroko couldn’t blame him for being worried. He looked like a mess. He was covered with dried mud and his light blue hair wasn't probably blue anymore. His head was decorated with all sorts of dead leaves and twigs. His clothes weren’t the same color, having been washed with soil and rain. Nigou wasn’t even as decent as him, looking like a mongrel who bathed in a pig pen.

“What happened? Let’s get you home. Can you walk?” His voice oozed with panic and concern that it made Kuroko a little uneasy. He just wanted to go home, bathe, and sleep. He felt too tired to explain what had happened.

Luckily, Kise let him go home first, and even helped his wobbly legs walk by supporting him. Back at the house, Aomine stood anxiously in front of his porch and when he saw him all muddy and worn-out, he yelled out the same exact words Kise had said. Aomine demanded an explanation, but all Kuroko wanted to do was sleep.

“Can I please go inside first and clean myself up?”

Both the worried men seemed to shut up after those words, and just followed Kuroko inside. He was thankful he had people worrying about him, but it was hard to appreciate them when they’re all so noisy and difficult. Couldn’t they tell he had this unbearable headache going on? Kuroko felt like the world was whirling endlessly.

The migraine lessened as soon as he splashed a bucket of cold water over himself. The dirt that clung to his skin washed off easily. But when he could finally see his pearly skin, he saw mild scratches and cuts all over his arms and legs. It stung when he washed it with water. They weren’t too deep, so it didn’t worry him that much. The only serious wound he had was the one on the side of his head. It bled when it got wet, so he bandaged it securely after bathing.

Kuroko, now clean and spotless, walked back to the living room, where Aomine and Kise waited.

“Tetsu, what the hell happened?” Aomine seemed calmer now, but he looked more angry than concerned. “What got into you, running off to the woods in the middle of the night?”

“Nigou ran away,” Kuroko simply said, sitting down on the tatami mats.

“But he doesn’t run off like that, right? You don’t keep him in a leash or anything…” Kise said.

“It _is_ strange,” Kuroko remarked, looking at the mentioned dog, which was now as clean as him. “Maybe he heard something coming from the forest—”

“You spent the entire night in the woods?” Aomine asked in disbelief.

Kuroko had to stop and think. He wasn’t in the woods all night. He was in that shack. “I was… saved by someone.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

He had no idea how to tell him. He was definitely saved by someone, or something. “I was saved by a tiger.”

“A tiger?!” Both the young men repeated in unison.

“I’m not sure. It sounded like one.”

“Tetsu, there aren’t any tigers around this area.” Aomine sighed in frustration. “And how is it even possible a tiger would save you? It would’ve eaten you alive.”

Kise approached Kuroko and placed a hand on his bandaged forehead. “Are you sure you’re alright, Kurokocchi? Maybe you’re still unwell?”

Upset, Kuroko gently pushed his hand away. He wasn’t seeing things. It wasn’t a hallucination. What he heard and saw was some kind of beast. It was ridiculous, but that thing was the only one who could possibly carry him into a weird shack. “It’s ridiculous, yes, but it saved me. Some creature saved me. I fell and hit my head and I passed out. I woke up this morning in a strange cabin in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure that _thing_ or whatever saved me.”

Aomine and Kise gave each other troubled looks and Kuroko was starting to get annoyed. The two men looked at him like he was some kid telling a tall tale. And he hated it. If they didn't want to believe him, fine, but he knew what he saw and heard back in that forest. He let out a deep sigh. “If it’s okay, I’d like to sleep for a while.”

It was another way of saying “please go away”, and the two knew it was their cue to leave. It was understandable he wanted to be alone. Kuroko wanted to rest. After all he had gone through, his tired body couldn’t hold on much longer. And so Aomine and Kise left, although mentioning last minute that they would check up on him later in the afternoon.

“Thank you,” Kuroko said to the two before heading to his room. He shouldn’t be annoyed because of their concern. It was a normal reaction. It felt so relaxing when he heard the door shut closed. In the end, Kuroko couldn’t sleep. He laid on his futon for an hour, trying to sleep, before giving up entirely. His mind was too occupied with thoughts of his mysterious savior and his muscles and joints were too sore to fully relax. It was an hour before noon when Kuroko craved for some fresh air and headed outside.

The persimmon trees were in full bloom and were begging to be picked. A little hungry, Kuroko grabbed a basket and decided to harvest some fruits. He wanted to broil some persimmons before he would cook lunch. If there was anything that made Kuroko relax, it would be picking persimmons. There was something about it that would ultimately calm his nerves. Maybe because he used to pick fruits with his beloved grandmother, and the very thought of her comforted him.

Leaving the empty basket on the ground, Kuroko, despite his aching limbs, climbed up a ladder that was against a blooming persimmon tree and began harvesting the orange-colored fruits. He made sure to pluck ripe ones, which were firm and glossy. He went down after getting a few and threw it in the basket. He went up again to pick some more, but when he went down, the basket was empty.

“Huh?” Kuroko looked around. Didn’t he just leave five persimmons? He wasn’t sleepwalking wasn’t he? He threw in another four and then climbed back up the ladder. Making sure the fruits he was collecting weren’t bruised or unripe, he climbed down again.

The basket was empty again.

It was strange. Kuroko grabbed his basket to feel it, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Then he eyed his whole property. There was no one. Climbing up again, he tried to convince himself that he was okay, that he wasn’t hallucinating. Though he was certain he picked fruits and left it in the basket, he was unconvinced that his harvest would just vanish like that. Slightly angry, he climbed up the ladder. He went up with angry steps. And that was when a ladder rung broke.

Kuroko gasped when he felt his feet land on a broken step and braced himself from the impact. He wasn’t that high up, but he made sure to cover his head when he fell. He closed his eyes shut. Before he knew it, he wasn’t falling anymore. There was no hard ground, there was no pain. He felt two strong arms. And he realized someone must’ve caught him.

Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a face. And the first thing he noticed were frightening red eyes. As soon as their eyes met, his rescuer dropped him immediately and Kuroko let out a quiet “ouch” when his bottom hit the ground. Kuroko saw a blur blow right past him and into a thick shrub, just next to a tree he was harvesting from.

“Umm…” Kuroko murmured, not exactly sure what to say. It was a human boy. A tall human boy who saved him. Somehow, Kuroko had a feeling it was the same person who rescued him last night. He only had a second to memorize the person’s face. And he was real, and he was a person. Kuroko wasn’t hallucinating. He saw a face and red eyes. It wasn’t an animal after all.

Kuroko figured the man was the one who was stealing the persimmons and tried to bribe him with it. He held one fruit in his hand, as he slowly approached the bush Red Eyes was hiding in. His pale hands were shaking. It wasn’t helpful that he was nervous. It was too obvious in his voice.

“Hey,” he said, kneeling in front of the shaded bush. It rustled a bit before he continued communicating with the hiding man. “Are you hungry?”

The only response he got was a low growl. His breath hitched. Was his rescuer really human? Kuroko thought it was humanely impossible for a man to growl so realistically like that. It sounded like a wild animal—like a tiger. Kuroko spoke again, hoping it would come out, “I won’t hurt you.”

He spoke to it like an animal, and it responded like an animal. In one quick moment, the man hiding in the bushes sprang out and lunged at him, ferociously biting the persimmon off his hands. Kuroko was at loss of words. The creature growled on top of him, his huge hands on either side of his head. And finally, Kuroko could see the man clearly. Its eyes looked merciless. The feral creature seemed like someone who could kill a person without remorse. But despite all of the misleading features, Kuroko couldn’t help but feel that there was something much more gentle behind the beast's red eyes. The man snarled at him like a hungry wolf while Kuroko could only breathe in raspy gasps. The man who locked him to the ground had sharp features, with red hair, a distinct angular face and a hard-bitten expression.

Kuroko raised a hand. He brushed his soft palm against the man’s cheek. And somehow, the beast’s angry, hardened expression gradually disappeared. It jumped back, away from Kuroko’s touch. Red Eyes crouched more like an animal in defense rather than a human. Kuroko quickly stood up.

With his most consoling voice, he said again, “I won’t hurt you.” He then grabbed another persimmon from the basket. “Here,” he offered, reaching out his hand for the second time. But the beast-like man just scuttled back, growling at Kuroko as he did so.

Kuroko couldn’t quite make out what the person was. The man was huge and tall and was quite well-built in form. It seemed like he had the same body type as Aomine. The man was clad in a ripped, black shirt that appeared like it hadn’t been washed for months. That was when Kuroko noticed a bunch of bitten persimmons around him. The creature wasn’t eating the persimmons, rather, he was tasting them.

Kuroko looked him in the eyes. “You don’t like persimmons?” he asked, but the other just growled angrily at him. With an idea in mind, the boy said in a hurry, “Wait here!”

Running to the house and then back outside, he beckoned him to come closer again. This time, he held a juicy, chunk of venison he had bought yesterday at the markets. The person’s expression changed drastically. It walked on all fours towards Kuroko, slowly and cautiously, like a vigilant tiger. The meat was snatched away in an amazing speed, Kuroko couldn’t see it. But the creature finally looked at him, without growling, without anger, and Kuroko realized that maybe he wasn't that dangerous.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a little hard writing this. Kagami's here yay! Again, updates on weekends hopefully.  
> Thanks for reading and I hope you like it!

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by a Korean movie called 늑대소년 or "Wolf Boy". Wonderful film, one of my favorite movies of all time.
> 
> The first chapter barely gives out information so I apologize for that. First chapters should be clouded in mystery is what I think. Anyway, I set it back in the past because life was just so simple back then. I also really love historical settings.
> 
> Also posted in [FF.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9870541/1/Because-When-the-Morning-Comes)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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